


A Shoulder To Lean On

by psyraah



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Declarations Of Love, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Massages
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-17 19:35:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9340034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psyraah/pseuds/psyraah
Summary: Because, when it came down to it, Roy realised that there was little he wouldn't do for Edward Elric. Including waking up in the middle of the night to give him an amateur massage.[Post-BH Ed-keeps-automail AU]





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [2896728967](https://archiveofourown.org/users/2896728967/gifts).



> THIS IS LIKE...THREE MONTHS LATE FOR BIRTHDAY. BUT HAPPY BIRTHDAY. And thank you for all your support always, being excited about my stuff, and being a generally wonderful friend <333
> 
> Cheese warning ahead. Like, SO MUCH CHEESE.
> 
> (Thanx Abbie for titling this)

It was different, to say the least, when you had another person to share your bed with.

Roy had never really had the opportunity to consider the concept. All past dalliances had been exactly that—dalliances. The occasional night out, but he had always made a very conscious effort to keep those events out of his own home. If there was one place that was sacred, it was his collection of two bedrooms, a bathroom, kitchen, laundry, and lounge room surrounded by red brick. The constant scrutiny of being one of the highest-ranking generals in the military meant that privacy was treasured, and personal space cherished.

On the very, very rare occasion that someone did stay for a night, it was only for a single night. Never long enough to arbitrarily allocate one side of the bed as yours and theirs, never long enough to learn to have a spare blanket ready when Roy inevitably rolled away with the entirety of the covers during the night, and certainly never long enough to change a morning routine so that coffee would be ready before breakfast, as opposed to being consumed at the office.

As per usual, Edward Elric generated many new experiences for Roy. All those listed previously, and more. How to do a braid, for example, when the mornings presented a bed partner who was balancing on the precipice of being too sleepy to do their own hair, but awake enough to demand that you do it. How to make pancakes, for another, with the added bonus of having learnt to do so at two in the morning.

All in all, quite different for someone to be sharing your bed.

(Though Roy wasn’t really sure that was all that this was.)

When this aforementioned bed-sharing had gone on for as long as this bout of bed-sharing had (seven months and counting), and the bed-sharee was Edward Elric, Roy also found that there was no more place for dropping hints or poorly-concealed messages. When the other party had witnessed you with your hair ruffled and sleeping in your rattiest military training shirt (and laughed about it, before smiling fondly) there wasn’t really much room for anything other than honesty.

So when Ed got up for the fifth time in—Roy lifted his head slightly to check the clock, whose faintly lit numbers glowed in the dark—the seventeen minutes since Roy had woken up when Ed had shuffled around the first time, Roy couldn’t pretend to sleep for any longer.

“Edward?” he croaked, and propped himself up on his elbows when Ed froze halfway out of the bed. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Ed said, too hastily for Roy’s liking. “Go back to sleep.”

Roy blinked blearily, and sat up. The moonlight was only peeping through the windows, and with Ed’s back to him, Roy couldn’t see Ed’s expression. But something else that Roy had learnt was all the little signs in Ed’s body language, all those physical cues that Ed refused to verbalise. Presently, he observed the hunched shoulders, the way Ed was clenching and unclenching his automail hand, and the fact that he was awake in the first place. All of it suggested that it was more than ‘nothing’.

Roy’s heart did that funny little turn it always did at the thought of Ed in pain. In the seven months and counting of this bed-sharing, Roy had become privy to the nightmares and shadows which sometimes plagued Ed at night, and expecting something along those lines, he reached out gently to capture Ed’s hand in his own.

“I’m awake now, anyway,” Roy said, Ed’s metal fingers cold against his own. He squeezed the hand in his, before shuffling over to wrap an arm around Ed’s middle, sighing contentedly at the feeling of warm skin against his palm. Because he could, Roy gently pressed a finger to Ed’s belly button, and Ed grunted in what Roy would assume to be displeasure, though he didn’t move away. “What’s keeping you up?”

Ed sighed, and leaned into Roy. “Can’t sleep,” he murmured against Roy’s neck, pressing a kiss to the skin there.

“Nightmare?” Roy asked gently, but to his surprise, Ed shook his head.

“Nah, it’s dumb.” Ed sighed again, inflating then sagging against Roy. “S’just my arm’s playing up.”

Roy drew back, frowning. “I thought you said you didn’t get injured on your last trip,” he said, the beginnings of a lecture on his lips.

But again, Ed surprised Roy by shaking his head. “The automail. It just…hurts, sometimes. It’ll pass.”

Roy’s initial reaction was to ask why, and how. But then the curiosity died almost as quickly as it sprouted. Ed’s words were born of past experience, meaning that this wasn’t the first time that this had happened. In fact, Roy realised with his stomach twisting, this was probably something that happened with sufficient regularity that it wasn’t even an _event_ for Ed anymore. Just something to be endured, like so much other pain in his life. Something to be simply dismissed as ‘nothing’.

It…distressed Roy, for wont of a better word. Not just the mere thought of Ed’s pain or discomfort, but also the thought that he felt it necessary to deny it to Roy. He had hoped that Ed wouldn’t feel the need to hide or to continue the semblance of strength and defiance here. Of course, Roy knew _why_ he did it. He himself understood it all too well, the need to shield vulnerability against a world so harsh, and all too ready to pry all that was good from your hands on a whim. He knew it all far too well. So all he could do was show Ed, as well as he could, that it simply wasn’t necessary to suffer silently anymore.

Not necessary, now that Roy was with him.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked.

“Nah, s’fine. I’ll sleep it off.”

“But you can’t sleep,” Roy pointed out, and frowned. “Would warmth help? I have a hot water bottle lying around somewhere.”

It was funny how Roy had known Ed long enough now that he could almost feel Ed’s hesitation, tangible in the night air. The decision was almost visible, visceral as Ed teetered on the edge of choosing.

“Maybe? But it’s the middle of the night,” he added quickly. “It’s fine.”

“Nonsense,” Roy said, and pressed a kiss to Ed’s temple. He found that he was becoming weaker and weaker at resisting the urge to kiss Ed at every possible moment, in every possible place. Not that it seemed like Ed minded at all, with the way that he tilted slightly into the motion. But the two of them were still…an undefined something (though it was definitely _something_ ), and the vague boundaries of their relationship sometimes left Roy feeling a little lost.

All the same, he allowed himself to bring up one hand to rub comfortingly against Ed’s back, where his automail joined skin. “Oh, you’re stiff.”

In the dark, Roy could just make out the edges of Ed’s frown. “Yeah, I just told you my arm hurts.”

“No, I thought it might just be phantom pain, or something more…internal? This I might be able to do something about,” Roy said, feeling lighter at the thought, and continuing to rub gentle circles around the stressed muscle. “How about a massage? I have some oil.”

Out of all things to surprise Ed, that seemed to be it. “The fuck do you need massage oil for?”

“Hawkeye gave it to me as a gift, once,” Roy said, keeping his voice light even as his pulse skipped a little. He didn’t mention that massage oil was useful for when the muscles around his stomach—knotted and covered by scar tissue—acted up. There was time enough, hopefully, for Ed to discover that later. This moment was about Ed’s comfort, not Roy’s. “Regardless of the reason, I have some, and I would happily share.”

Ed shifted his weight, and drew back from Roy. In the scant moonlight drifting through the windows, Roy could just see the frown. He decided to kiss it.

It simply scrunched up more. Adorable.

“You should sleep, though,” Ed said.

That was enough of an agreement for Roy, and he crawled out of bed to fetch the oil. “It’s fine,” he said. He yawned, and flicked on the light—which turned out to be a mistake, because it assaulted his eyes, and he immediately turned it back off.

“Too early for that one,” he muttered. “Could you just grab the light on the bedside table?”

A moment later, a far gentler yellow glow lit the room, and Roy could dig through his drawers of miscellanea without being blinded. Retrieving his bottle of oil, he padded back over to the bed.

“All right, where is it tight?”

“Back, shoulder, neck kinda thing,” Ed grunted. “My arm’s heavy, so it kinda pulls at the port.”

“Might be easiest if you lie on your stomach?”

Ed complied, but not without a sigh. “Reckon you should still go to sleep. Better than wasting your time on this shit, it’s only gonna get bad again tomorrow.”

“Then we can work on that tomorrow. I was just thinking,” Roy said, rubbing his hands together to warm them, “how I have learnt a great many things from having to cohabitate with you. This is merely another opportunity for me to further develop certain skills which would otherwise not go practiced.”

Despite the dim lighting, Ed’s laughter—muffled against the covers—danced speckled, golden light in Roy’s heart. “The fuck, Roy? Y’know, most people just say ‘living together’, you shit.”

“I also enjoy developing my vocabulary.”

“You’re the worst.”

“Only for you, dearest.” And as soon as the words were out of his mouth, Roy cringed.

The final word had slipped past his lips unconsciously, simply because it was true. Ed was the most dear person to his heart, but that didn’t necessarily mean that Ed wanted to know that. The hollow cavity of Roy’s chest was pounding, but he didn’t pause. Evasion and ignoring were the easiest ways to breeze past awkwardness, so Roy simply kept moving, placing his hands on Ed’s shoulder blade.

However, Ed was decidedly not evading, nor ignoring.

He groaned, and shoved his face in the pillow. “I should’ve known you’d be a fan of sappy pet names.”

Something in Roy’s heart twisted, but he kept his voice even as he swept his hands across Ed’s skin—rough, scarred, gorgeous—spreading the oil. “It does fit my character rather well,” he said. “I’m sorry. It just slipped out.”

The night air was filled with the gentle sound of Roy’s palms gliding over Ed’s skin, slick with oil, and their soft breathing. Outside, the wind was gentle as it dragged whispers through the branches of trees, and no cars went by to break the night’s silence. For Roy, it still felt as though the universe were holding its breath in that moment. Roy forced his own breath steady. If Ed ridiculed him, he would continue living. If Ed decided that it were creepy but accepted his apology regardless, he would be grateful, and continue living.

After all, no one had ever died of an unrequited…crush.

But Ed did none of that. Instead, he buried his face in the pillow and seemed to attempt to further dig through the material with his face, his loose braid becoming all the looser with every movement. Muffled groans and what Roy assumed were words became lost in the fabric.

“Pardon?” he asked, hesitantly.

Ed stilled, and groaned some more. Not entirely understanding what was happening, and still unsure of what to expect—if anything—Roy continued working out the tight knots in Ed’s muscles.

Then Ed spoke again. “I don’t mind it,” is what Roy _thought_ he heard. For a minute, all thoughts of the task at hand flew out the window, and into the night.

“Oh,” Roy said, rather intelligently. Roy stared, and he was glad that Ed’s face was buried in a pillow, so he couldn’t witness what felt like Roy’s ears being set alight. “I see.” Another moment passed, mostly because it was likely Roy’s turn to converse, but his mind didn’t seem to want to conjure the necessary words. Political quips and pithy comebacks were simple, compared to the monumental task of navigating this…relationship with Ed.

“I’m glad,” was where he finally settled, busying himself with the task of kneading his hands into the hard muscle of Ed’s shoulder.

“Mmm.” Ed was sounding decidedly sleepy again, and Roy took that to be a good sign.

“Satisfactory?”

“Very,” Ed almost purred. “S’good.”

No, what was good was Ed. What was good was this: Ed, sleepy and content in his bed ( _their_ bed), the gentle quiet of the night that seemed more common now that Ed was in his life. Surprising, because quiet was not something that one usually associated with Ed, known destroyer of property both public and private, and possibly the record holder for most impressive voice projection in the military, which was no mean feat considering the other contenders. But there had been more quiet, more silence, more living, in Roy’s life since Ed had decided to intertwine it with his own. And there was one, simple fact that stood out above all else.

This made Roy happy.

For once, his hands were bringing comfort. His work in the office might be good ideologically, every signature and handshake a further step towards building something better than the present. But ideology and morality were never clear. There were trade-offs and considerations that sometimes had poison curling again in Roy’s stomach, doubts that plagued his mind over his means, his motives, and his outcomes.

But this? This was simply good. Despite the late hour and lack of sleep, there wasn’t anywhere else that Roy would rather be that kneeling awkwardly in his rumpled bed sheets, Ed lying sprawled on the bed with his hair spilling around his head.

“Feeling better?”

This time, Ed didn’t even bother with words, just let out a long groan of contentment. Roy chuckled at the sound, and kept kneading away as Ed’s stiff muscles, feeling the tension seep away from the worn body beneath his hands. The rhythm was soothing for Roy. Pressing his hands down firmly, drawing back, moving slightly, pressing, withdrawing, moving. The bedsprings pulsed steadily as Roy worked, creaking rhythmically beneath the combined weight of their bodies.

After a while, Ed shifted, and rolled onto his side. Roy drew his hands back, wiping the last remains of the excess oil on his arms as he looked at the beauty sprawled before him. Ed’s eyes were hooded as he looked sleepily up at Roy, and then he lifted his arm to poke at Roy’s cheek.

“Thanks,” he mumbled. Then…then he smiled, and Roy’s heart couldn’t take the pressure anymore.

He couldn’t resist the urge to capture Ed’s wrist between his fingers, and bend over to kiss him. Long, slow, gentle, their breath moving together, the sound clear and intoxicating in the hush of the night.

Then Ed’s arm was around his waist, pulling him inexorably closer like the tides moved water, and Roy went with him. Went with him as they shifted to lie next to each other on the bed, chased his lips as they moved, soft and gentle. Went with him, accompanied by the terrifying knowledge that wherever Ed asked, Roy would go.

He would go, he realised, and he would stay.

When they parted, Roy couldn’t stop himself from brushing his lips over Ed’s cheek one last time, fingers dancing of the nape of Ed’s neck.

“I should get you that hot water bottle,” Roy whispered.

But Ed shook his head, and simply curled in closer. “Nah, you’re warm,” he mumbled. “Stay.”

Perhaps it was the late hour, and the fog of fatigue that was crowding his mind. Perhaps it was simply that he was comfortable with Ed by his side. Or perhaps it was that Ed made him brave. Made him want: want to be wanted, want to be loved, and want to love and give selflessly to his fullest, regardless of fear.

Whatever it may be, it had Roy drawing Ed closer, and murmuring gently into his hair. “Anything for you, love,” he said, the last word deliberately chosen and terrifying. And true.

Ed froze, and Roy could only hear the pounding of his own heart in his ears, Ed’s fingers still resting over where his heartbeat pumped up and down.

“Um,” Ed finally said, and the single syllable was deafening. “Do…um. Do you love me?” he managed to fumble out. The words were innocent, yet full of so much promise, sweet in how Ed had mumbled them.

Roy avoided looking down. He didn’t want to risk seeing whatever expression was on Ed’s face, so he simply stared at the ceiling. “Yes,” he said, and he tried to slow his breathing. “I rather believe I do.”

“Shit.”

Well. Roy didn’t need his heart anyway.

“No, wait, no, I meant—shit, I—fuck.”

“Ed, it’s all right,” Roy said gently, even though it wasn’t. Still, he squeezed his arm tighter around Ed’s shoulders, because that was what it was like to be in love, Roy found: wanting to comfort even when your own heart was falling apart.

“No, I meant—I’m not good at this,” Ed huffed. His fingers started to trace wandering patterns over Roy’s collarbone, and Roy shivered at the touch. “I’m not good at this,” Ed repeated, more firmly this time, but there was softness in his voice. “But…but I think…me too.”

Little fireworks exploded in Roy’s heart.

“Oh.”

There was a long silence.

“Shit, Roy, say something more than ‘oh’. You’re freakin’ me out.”

“You were the one who greeted my declaration of love with ‘um’, and then copious amounts of swearing. Pots and kettles, Edward.”

But Roy laughed when Ed shoved at him, before he burrowed closer once more. “I don’t know why I’m even in love with you,” he muttered angrily.

Roy finally found that he had the courage to catch Ed’s eye, and when he looked over, there was a smile quirking up the corners of Ed’s mouth too. He pressed a kiss to Ed’s forehead, before humming. “Let’s find out,” he said softly. “I would…I would be interested to continue learning about us, if you’re willing.”

And when Ed looked back at him, it was like watching supernovas being born.

“Let’s find out.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments + kudos make me a happy chappy. Can be found on [tumblr ](http://psyraah.tumblr.com/post/155921386882/warning-cheese-and-fluff).


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